


Coffee and Cake

by GinnyLily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Art Student Reader, Barista Dean, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 20:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7237756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyLily/pseuds/GinnyLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a rainy day and she just wants a coffee and a quiet place to concentrate. She still has to work on that concentration part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee and Cake

**Author's Note:**

> requested by sabriel-38.tumblr.com
> 
> \--
> 
> (Y/N) = your name  
> (Y/H/C) = your hair color

She needs a coffee. And a dry place. Preferably quiet. She can concentrate better when it's quiet. Clutching her bag to her side she hurries over the street and seeks shelter in the entrance to a busy building. She wipes the raindrops from her face and pushes aside the wet hair that's sticking to her forehead. Of course she had to leave the umbrella at home! But then again it didn't look like rain in the morning.

She quickly pulls her phone from her pocket and looks up cafés in her area. The next Starbucks is only a ten minutes' walk away. She puts the phone back in her pocket and glances up at the sky.

_'Doesn't look like it's going to stop raining anytime soon.'_ She shrugs. She can't stand here forever, especially with so many people passing in and out of the office building.

She takes a deep breath and runs out onto the wet and slippery sidewalk. She almost feels like plunging into a swimming pool. Heavy raindrops hit her face and the water slowly creeps through her denim jacket and her sneakers. She presses her bag even tighter to her body, trying to shield it from the rain.

She turns a corner and is forced to stop. Of course. With the huge masses of water falling from the sky, everyone is taking their car! She waits at the street, nervously stepping from one foot to the other and looking around for a quicker way to cross the street. That's when she sees it.

It's a small sign, dark green with a little white mug in the middle. It's almost invisible among all the other signs in the narrow side street, advertising for food or clothing shops. Without a second though t she turns away from the busy road and walks towards the sign.  _ 'Café of Letters' _ it says in squiggly words below the mug.

She opens the glass door to the little café and is immediately greeted by wa rmth and the smell of fresh coffee and cake. For a moment she just stands there in the entrance and breathes in the beloved scent.

“Hello, welcome to the Café of Letters,” a voice says and she opens her eyes again. A young, tall, handsome man with stunningly green eyes is standing behind the counter and smiling at her.

“Hi,” she says, feeling herself blushing. She quickly takes off her soaked hood and once again pushes her wet hair back. “Hi.”

The man's smile gets wider. “Hi. Sit wherever you want.” He gestures to the many empty tables and booths in the room. It's a nice place, she thinks, lovely decorated with real flowers and tiny wooden sculptures of animals.

“Thank you.” She walks towards a booth in the corner, right next to a large window from which she can see the narrow street she has just run along. She can also see the barista, who is now coming out from behind the counter and walking towards her table. 

“Would you like a coffee? A cake? A hot chocolate?” He has a deep voice. A nice voice.

“A cappuccino, please,” she mumbles, suddenly shy. The man intimidates and fascinates her at the same time.

“Okay. Would you like me to hang up your jacket next to the heater, so it can dry a little before you go back out there?”

“Oh...yes. Um, thank you.” She blushes again, quickly slips out of her jacket and hands it to the man. He has a name tag but she can't read it fast enough before he turns and walks back to the counter.

While the barista hangs up her jacket and makes her coffee, she unearths a sketchbook and pencil from her bag. She sighs in relief when she finds both unharmed from the rain and dry.

–

Dean watches the girl as he makes her coffee. She is pretty, even with her (Y/H/C) hair wet and sticking to her head. She seems a little shy, though. Now the girl pulls a notebook from her bag and flips it open to a new page. She then seems to think for a few seconds before she bends down over the table and starts drawing fine lines onto the paper. Dean is fascinated by her. He wishes he was artsy enough to draw but besides some stick figure he can do nothing.

The cappuccino doesn't take long to make and thus Dean has an excuse to talk to her again. With the hot cup in hand he walks towards her table.

“Here you go,” he smiles, trying to get a glimpse of whatever she's drawing but she places a hand on the paper when she looks up and blocks his view.

“Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

She shakes her head, smiling. “No, thanks. I'm good for now.”

“Okay. I'm...at the counter...if you need me,” he mumbles and quickly leaves her table. What was that?!

His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he is back at his safe space behind the counter he opens the message.

_I'll be home late, don't wait up for me. -Sam_

Dean replies quickly:  _Okay. You going out with that girl again?_

The answer comes immediately:  _Her name is Jess! And yes. Maybe we should find you a girlfriend, too, then you can stop being annoyed at mine._

Dean rolls his eyes. He isn't annoyed that his little brother has a girlfriend and he certainly doesn't need one for himself. He is just happy that Sammy has found friends so soon after moving here. And maybe he's a little bit jealous that he hasn't found any himself. But he doesn't need a girlfriend.

Dean glances up to the girl at the table. She is still drawing into her notebook and it appears that she has already emptied half of her cup.

_I'm not annoyed. And I don't need a girlfriend, okay?_

_Fine. See you tonight._ Sam writes back and Dean puts his phone away.

–

The door opens and two new customers come in. She looks up for only a second, then refocuses on her sketch. She realizes she can't concentrate at the moment. It's not the two women, who have now seated themselves at a table at the other end of the café. Maybe she just needs some coffee.

When the barista has taken the other people's orders, she reluctantly raises her hand. He sees her and smiles, then slowly walks towards her.

“Another coffee?” he asks and takes her empty cup.

Her heart starts beating faster, something she can't explain.  _'Why am I so nervous talking to him?'_

“Yes, please,” she manages to say, though her voice his quiet.

Nevertheless, he seems to have understood her because he turns and walks back to the counter. She has only managed to caught a short glimpse of his name tag, still not enough to read his full name but she is sure it starts with a 'D'.

She tries to concentrate on her drawing again and pulls a photo from her pocket for reference. Maybe she can't concentrate because she's completely wet, she thinks. Hopefully it's that. It can't be the barista, it  _mustn't_ be him. Dammit, she hasn't been in this town for more than two days and she's already falling for a guy? A guy she has never even spoken to? Okay, technically she has, but only a few words and nothing personal.

He comes back with her second cup of coffee and she quickly glances up at his name tag. “Thank you...Dean.” She can feel her face getting hot as she blushes again.

Dean smiles and then walks back to his counter to greet two more guests.

_'Crap,'_ she thinks,  _'it's definitely him.'_

Then she looks down at her sketchbook, sighs, and tears out the page she's been drawing on for the past twenty minutes.

–

The girl stays for almost two hours. The rain has finally stopped when she pays and he gives her her jacket back. Dean can't help staring at her when she leaves the café. He notices the crumpled paper in her hand that she now throws away on her way out.

_'Will she ever come back here?'_ he asks himself. He hopes so, she seems nice. Admittedly, they haven't talked much but she is pretty and her presence made him feels strangely more welcome in his new work space, nothing any other customer had ever achieved.

A couple of hours later, when he closes the café for the night, he remembers the paper in the trash can. He picks it up and flattens it out on the counter. It's a portrait of a tiger. Dean is amazed by the details; the whiskers, the eyes, the stripes, the paws – everything seems perfect to him (and he's not a great fan of cats). He has no idea why she would throw such a pretty drawing away.

He thinks for a second, then carefully folds the crumpled paper in the middle and slides it into his pocket. He likes it and since she only wanted to throw it away, he figures it's okay.

–

Dean has freckles, she notices. Whether they only appear when it is sunny or whether she had just not noticed them the first time round, she can't tell. She just knows that they're there now.

It's the next day and she's back at the little café, liking the quiet, the smell – and obviously the barista. She is happy that it's him again today and not some other person behind the counter.

“Hi! A cappuccino?” he had asked with a broad smile when she had entered.

She had nodded and sat down in her booth again, pulling out pencil and sketchbook.

–

“Whatcha drawing today?” Dean asks when he brings her the second cup of the day. He doesn't even bother asking her what she wants anymore, just brings her a new cappuccino every half hour. She never orders cake or water, he has realized, but he assumes it's because she just wants a quiet place to be able to draw. The coffee is only an extra.

She looks up and smiles at him, then turns the sketchbook round to show him. It's a stack of books with a mug balancing on the top.

“It's only a draft...”

“Oh no, I like it! It's pretty!”

“Thank you.” Her face brightens and she blushes. She is always blushing and he can't help but think it's something to do with him. Not that he's cocky or anything, maybe she's just shy.

Another customer calls him over and so he has to leave her again. When the customer has left, Dean turns back to the girl's table. He still doesn't know her name but he's scared to ask. On the other hand, she has come here for a whole week now, staying for two to three hours every day, always sitting at the same table, quietly drawing and drinking cappuccino.

His phone buzzes. It's a message from Sam.

_Hey, can I come by and borrow your house keys? I think I left mine in my other jeans..._

Dean rolls his eyes and texts back.

It only takes ten minutes until his younger brother opens the door to the café and walks up to the counter.

“Hey, Dee! Sorry, I wasn't fully awake this morning. I think I -” He pauses when he catches sight of the girl at the table in the corner. He lowers his voice. “Who is she?”

Dean shrugs and hands Sam the keys. “A customer.”

“ _The_ customer?”

“I don't know what you mean,” Dean says but doesn't meet his brother's eyes.

“The customer who is the reason why you can't stop babbling and why you are overly excited to go to work every day?”

“Shh, you're too loud!” Dean whispers in responds, mortified.

“What's her name?”

“I don't know!”

“Dude, you gotta figure out her name!” Sam says urgently.

“Hm. Maybe.”

The taller man grins. “Okay, I'll leave you to it. Thanks for the keys.” He winks at his older brother and disappears through the door again.

–

The door opens and an incredibly tall man, even taller than Dean, enters the café. He walks up to the counter and starts talking to the handsome barista. She tries not to watch them and instead focuses on outlining the table on which she wants to place the books.

To her surprise the tall man leaves shortly after without ordering anything and she's alone with Dean again. To her even greater surprise Dean comes to her table, even though she hasn't finished her coffee yet.

“Hi,” he says, standing next to her. He seems to be a little indecisive.

She stops drawing and looks up at him. “Hey. Um...I'm not quite finished with my co-”

“What's your name?” he suddenly blurts out.

“Sorry?” she asks, a little taken aback by this blunt and sudden question.

Dean's face turns pale and then bright red. His fingers play hectically with the hem of his shirt. “I, uh...I just...wanted to...maybe you need -”

The door opens and a small group of people enters the café.

“Sorry, I need to...” Dean gestures to the group.

She nods, staring at him. Face still crimson, Dean walks over to the group and takes their orders.

–

“(Y/N).” A ten dollar bill appears in front of his eyes. He looks up. The girl is standing in front of him, smiling softly. She places the money on the counter. When he automatically reaches for her change she shakes her head. “Tip,” she says and winks.

He nods. “Thank you. (Y/N).”

She looks at him for a few seconds then turns around and leaves, a little smile still on her face.

–

Thankfully she has checked the opening hours of the Café of Letters  online. They're open every day, though not as long on weekends. She has no idea if Dean works on the weekends. He's on the website, too, on a photo standing next to the owner of the café, Benny Lafitte, and the only other employee, a young woman named Anna Milton. Dean's last name is “Winchester” but that's all she knows about him. So far she has resisted the urge to google his name, as she would much rather learn things about him by actually talking to him.

When she opens the door around noon she is disappointed. A red-headed girl is standing behind the counter, greeting her in a friendly tone. She orders a cappuccino and sits down at her usual table.

“Excuse me,” she asks the woman, Anna, as she brings the coffee. “Is...um, Dean working today?”

The redhead shakes her head. “No, he isn't working on weekends, that's my job. He only works from noon to closing time on weekdays. Benny, our boss, takes the other half of the weekdays and I'm here on weekends. Still in school,“ she winks. “I'm fine with working here, though. My name is Anna, by the way.”

“(Y/N),” she says, not too sure what to think of Anna's over-share. At least now she knows when she can find Dean here.

–

On Monday her table is the only one not occupied. She smiles at Dean when she enters and sits down. The young barista smiles back and less than five minutes later places a cappuccino in front of her.

“Hi,” he says, then adds: “Good to see you, (Y/N).”

She shivers when he says her name. It sounds wonderful coming from his lips.

“Thank you. Good to see you, too, Dean.”

They look at each other a few seconds longer than necessary before Dean is called to another table.

She leaves early that day because it's busy and loud in the small café. As soon as she's out of the door she wants to go back. She already misses Dean's presence.

–

Dean likes the way her hair falls into her eyes when she draws. He likes the way her hand absently tucks the (Y/H/C) locks behind her ear and then reaches for the cup to take a sip of her coffee. It's only been a little over a week but he has already gotten used to her sitting quietly in the corner, drawing for a few hours before she pays and leaves, only to come back the next day and repeat the procedure.

He had actually missed her during the weekend and when she left early yesterday, the café seemed strangely empty despite the many people there. His brother was right, Dean does like going to work more since she is here. Has he actually fallen for a stranger?

“Dammit!” a quiet curse comes from her corner.

Dean looks up, seeing her rummaging through her bag. Has she lost something?

Then she suddenly stands up and comes walking towards him. He quickly wipes his hands on his jeans and smiles.

“I was going to bring you your new coffee in just a sec.”

“Thank you but...” She hesitates. “Do you happen to have a sharpener?” She blushes slightly. “My...my pencil broke and I forgot my mine...”

He looks puzzled for a moment, then he says: “Sure...I'll check. Just a moment.”

Dean quickly walks into the small office space at the back of the café and searches the drawers. A minute later he returns with a sharpener that he hands her. “There you go.”

Her face brightens. “Thank you!”

“What are you drawing?” he asks, trying to sound casual while she sharpens the pencil with quick, practiced movements.

She blushes again. “Oh...nothing. Just...stuff...”

He doesn't push, just accepts the sharpener back from her. “I'll get you that coffee now.”

She smiles and returns to her table.

–

“I hope you're not allergic to anything?”

When she looks up she is surprised to see not only a cup of fresh, hot coffee but also two plates with a piece of chocolate cake on each.

Dean points to the chair opposite her. “Would you mind if I...?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean sure, have a seat.”

She is so perplexed she even forgets her drawing for a second. She looks to Dean, then to the cake, then around in the café. It's empty, only the two of them are there.

“I thought, you might want to eat something, I only ever see you drink your cappuccino. It's on the house of course. I'm sorry, maybe that was a stupid idea but I really wanted to – hey, is that me?”

“What? Um, no – it's...” She quickly turns her sketchbook around, so her newest drawing is facing the table. “It's...nothing. Just an...an art project. For...school. It's...nothing,” she stutters, her face turning dark red.

Dean smirks. He looks cute, she realizes. Also they have never been this close, with only the table separating them. She can see every single one of his freckles and his incredibly green eyes are only inches away from hers.

“Can I see your art project when it's finished?” he asks gently.

“Um...yes. Sure. Yeah.”

Dean's smirk widens into an actual grin. “Well...” He scratches his head. “I...kinda wanted to talk to you. You have been coming here for the past week and a half and I just...hm, wanted to know a little more than your name. Because...you, dunno, seem interesting? And your artwork is amazing! Not, that I've seen much,” he quickly adds, “but I like what I've seen, so...”

He hesitates, takes his fork and takes a bite from his cake. “Maybe I should start. Hi. My name is Dean. Winchester. I'm twenty-three and I just moved here about a month ago because my little brother Sammy – Sam, don't tell him I called him Sammy! – he attends college...” He seems unsure of how to continue and shoots her a nervous glance.

Her heartbeat has increased during his little speech and while her face is still hot and red, a smile has slowly found its way into her lips. She, too, tries the cake (it's delicious!) before introducing herself. “I'm (Y/N) and I'm an art student. I'm also quite new to this town and stumbled upon this café by accident because I wanted a warm place that served coffee when it was raining last Monday.”

“Yeah, I remember that. You were soaking wet and kind of left a puddle from your wet clothes.” He laughs and once she is sure that he wasn't bothered by the puddle she joins in.

They talk for twenty minutes before another customer enters and Dean has to get back to work. Today she stays longer, though, and after closing time Dean walks her home with the promise to resume their conversation the next day.

“I have the weekend off,” he says, while they both stand on the street in front of her house. “I don't know if you want to but maybe we can go for a coffee or something? Or an ice cream,” he quickly adds when he sees her grin.

“Ice cream would be great.” She can't believe it! Did he actually just ask her out? Or does he want to eat ice cream as friends? She looks up at the tall man, who was a stranger just a week ago, and feels suddenly insecure. Then she mumbles: “The drawing...yes, that was...a draft. A portrait of...you. I...need to practice drawing humans and I didn't have a photo with me and because you were standing right there I thought – I hope, it's okay?”

Dean chuckles. “Of course! I gotta be honest, I'm flattered! Nobody has ever drawn me before, especially nobody as talented as you.”

She blushes again, then looks at her watch. “I should probably...” She motions to the house.

“Yeah. Sure. Of course. I...see you tomorrow?”

“As usual,” she smiles.

“Great.”

For a moment they just stand there in an awkward silence.

“Hm...”

“Hug?” Dean suggests and she is relieved.

“Yeah,” she laughs and then he pulls her into a tight embrace. He's warm. And tall. So tall. He also smells good, she realizes. Like coffee and leather and soap.

They hug longer than absolutely necessary but neither of them wants to let go. After what feels like an eternity – but a good eternity – she finally lets go of him, hesitates and then places a quick kiss onto his cheek.

“See you tomorrow, Dean.”

 


End file.
